The Tale of Burns Manor's Ghostly Gala
by HarleenQuinn
Summary: Mr. Burns and Smithers decide to host a Halloween party for the town of Springfield. However, it turns out that not all haunts are as fake as they should be...


THE TALE OF BURNS MANOR'S GHOSTLY GALA

AUTHORESS'S NOTE: Just thought I would have to write a Halloween-themed Simpsons fanfic. :) Please read and review! Any comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you!

CHAPTER ONE:

The pumpkin chromaticity in the sky and the burning aroma of fire in the air notified me that Halloween was nearing, and for this, I was less than enthused. Every year Mr. Burns and I would partake in the same, dreary routine: we'd stay holed up in his bedroom watching old black-and-white Halloween specials and eating an assortment of specific candy corn and caramel apples, the only two Halloween treats that Mr. Burns' weak digestive system could handle when consumed in bulk.

I'd snicker about the severe difference in quality in the films back then, while Mr. Burns would take offense to my deriding and defend the corny movies as motion picture masterpieces of an era when a man with a screw in his head and a stitch across his face was enough to get young hearts pounding. And I would laugh a bit more and riposte with an opinion that the absence of deeply explored psychological depth is what made good horror films good: the examination of the human mind's sickening defects what was truly chilling.

But Mr. Burns would merely scoff and say, "You can clearly see that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a story of schizophrenia. Why isn't that good enough for you, smart-aleck?" to which I would counter, "Actually, it's a story of multiple-personality disorder. Schizophrenics usually demonstrate symptoms of hallucinations and delusions, but it doesn't mean they have two personalities. And even if Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was intended as a story of multiple -personality disorder, it would be portrayed incorrectly, as people with multiple-personality disorder don't usually have only two distinct entities in their minds."

We would usually blether on this way for quite some time, before at least our mouths grew weary, because our minds seldom did. At some point, we would just smile and shake hands on a debate well-argued, then twist our eyes back to the hoary glow of the television and stay quiescently quiet for a good long time, excluding the giggles I sometimes simply could not contain while watching Whale's 1931 version of "Frankenstein".

When I reflect on it, this tradition was actually one that both Mr. Burns and I had grown to immensely enjoy over the years. I couldn't deny the appeal of being isolated with Mr. Burns up in his room, our hands occasionally touching as we simultaneously reached for a piece of candy, our laughter being intertwined at the most childish of things. And the sound of his laughter…each individual chuckle was an angelic chord to my ear.

However, even I sometimes grew bored with the current predictability of the one night that I had always, prior to knowing Mr. Burns, considered to be the one night upon which that anything was possible. It was a night to unwind and let loose and maybe act a little crazy just once a year, and that was literally just once a year for me, as on any other day I wittingly condensed any desire I might have had that was too wild to be socially appropriate. I was admittedly a repressed creature, and this year I was especially craving a little Halloween-permitted intemperance.

So, I decided to locate whatever temerity might have lurked in my soul and pull it to the surface as I braved Mr. Burns and suggested a change in our plans. "So, Mr. Burns, Halloween's approaching ever quickly…" I began as I poured his coffee for him at the plant.

"Ah, yes, Halloween…evening of the evil, night of the numbing, day of the dead," swooned Mr. Burns fondly.

"Actually, sir, Day of the Dead is technically November 1st by Spanish standards," I corrected unthinkingly.

Mr. Burns looked over at me, his lovesick trance coming to an annoyed end. "Hm? Oh, well, whatever. What were you going to say about Halloween, Smithers?"

Nervously tugging a bit on my bow tie, I chuckled and said, "Well, sir, I was thinking that this year we could host a party for the town. I'll take care of the entertainment and decorations and invitations and elaborations…if you could just offer your manor as the setting."

Raising an eyebrow at me as he often did, Mr. Burns said, "Well, I suppose, but why Smithers? What about our previous plans?"

"We could still do that…um…we could host the party on Halloween's eve and then have our movie marathon Halloween night," I tendered. _Perfect. You get the best of both worlds. Just perfect. Rather ingenious actually_, I thought to myself, smiling a bit smugly.

"But why would we want to host the party in the first place? This town has done nothing for us but pay us for electric power, and they don't even pay enough for that, damn it! What do we owe them? They should be hosting a gala for _us_!"

I should have seen this coming, and luckily, I subconsciously must have, because I had an answer ready at the edge of my tongue. "You know what they say, Mr. Burns: 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' You're the one who taught me that gem," I said with an affectionate yet still anxious grin.

Mr. Burns hesitated. "But the people of Springfield aren't necessarily my _enemies_…except perhaps for that spiky-haired little demon Maggie Simpson…but other than her, I don't have anything against them particularly. They're just a crowd of cheapskates is all."

_Think, Waylon, think! _"Maybe not now, but if we got to know them a little better, perchance they would turn into something more than objects of indifference. Becoming acquainted with each of them, we'd either gain a friend or we'd gain an enemy, and I think we could always use more of both."

Canopying his fingers, Mr. Burns looked down as if in deep deliberation of my return. To seal the deal, I quickly added, "And Mr. Burns, Halloween is the one time during which your wickedness cannot be condemned. It will rather be galvanized and respected among our townsfolk. You'll be the star of the whole night."

Mr. Burns at this point looked back up at me and smirked. "Ah, Smithers, you've convinced me, you cunning minx. A Halloween party we shall have! But…what _ever_ shall we wear?"


End file.
